The Flower Thief
by mewpichu
Summary: After being revived, Steve turned down the offer from SHIELD. Instead of joining the Avengers, he opted to move to Brooklyn for a bit of familiarity.


**A/N: Hello! I wrote this fic about three years ago, but it's always held a soft spot in my heart, so I thought I'd post it. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it!**

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Blondie came by again.

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark did not enjoy constantly being around people. In addition to his brand new baby, Stark Tower, he owned a smaller, much more humble place out in Brooklyn. Pepper would tell him he used the term very loosely.

It was an impulse purchase. The paparazzi was giving him more trouble than usual and he decided to buy a brownstone on 12th street, right near a nice park that thank god isn't as crowded as Bryant Park near the tower. He took the four floors of boring apartment building and transformed it into a relaxing oasis. Not that it looked any different from the outside. No, anyone who lived there had absolutely no idea that Tony Stark owned the brownstone on the corner.

He had been sitting at the second story bay window tinkering at something when he happened to look outside. Blondie, in all his muscular glory, walked down the street. He started showing up around three months ago, curtesy of JARVIS, and has been coming every Sunday ever since, also curtesy of JARVIS. But he wasn't like any other commoner that would keep on walking. No, Blondie was a flower thief.

Every week, he walked up to the building and stood in front of the meager garden that Pepper insisted on. She had wanted to take advantage of soil, even if the space was only one by four feet. Blondie always looked at the garden in deep thought before bending down to pluck a flower. And it was always, without a doubt, one of the pink ones. He looked at it before going on his merry way.

Tony had seen the mysterious flower thief for himself multiple times, but he'd never quite known where he took said flower. Blondie was quite attractive, not that Tony would ever say that out loud, so maybe he had a girl waiting at some café somewhere. Maybe Sunday was date night and he just couldn't afford to get her a simple flower.

Well, if he's stealing my flowers, Tony thought, she had better be hot.

And with that, Tony put down the tech he was currently playing around with, found his keys, grabbed a hat to disguise his identity, and ran out the door. He reasoned that he just wanted to find out why his flowers were getting stolen so many times. He was absolutely not following a handsome man down the street like a stalker.

Tony followed Blondie up 12th street and then down 7th avenue. He tried to stay half a block behind because, while he was most definitely not a stalker, he really didn't feel like getting accused of being one. Blondie popped into a bagel place. After a minute, Tony was about to turn around and head back when he saw the other man come back out with a bag and a cup of coffee. No café date then. Maybe a picnic? But who the hell buys a bagel for a damn picnic?

Blondie walked for several blocks at a brisk pace that Tony slightly struggles to keep up with. He can understand why the man is so muscular. He must walk a lot, if his pace is anything to go by. The muscles in his calves were completely exposed by his two-sizes-too-small jeans. Tony's eyes slowly wandered up to perfectly toned thighs before rising up to sneak a peek at that ass… He quickly averted his eyes, but looking up, but that didn't help much. He was greeted by more perfect muscle in the form back, shoulders, and arms.

By the time he had gotten down to 17th street, Tony was unzipping his sweatshirt. He could have sworn it wasn't that hot out today. At least that's what he told himself. In no way did his current body heat have anything to do with the man walking half a block ahead of him. But he couldn't stop now. He was too invested in seeing Blondie's girlfriend, or boyfriend, even just to see who was lucky enough to date this statue of a man.

Another two blocks passed and Tony could see a park in the distance. Guess Blondie's the guy who buys a bagel for a damn picnic. As they got closer, Blondie's pace quickened to the point of making it uncomfortable for Tony. But he followed anyway. This was the home stretch. He was so close to finding Blondie's secret significant other. For whatever reason, he was excited to see the recipient of his stolen flowers. He watched Blondie enter the park and he was about to follow when he read a sign posted outside. Tony felt his stomach drop.

Welcome to Green-Wood Cemetary

Blondie wasn't visiting a girlfriend. He was visiting a loved one. Someone who was lost. Someone who was dead.

Tony continued following anyway. The grave Blondie was in search of wasn't very far from the entrance. He stopped after only a minute of walking down the road. Tony parked himself at a nearby grave to give the illusion that he was a fellow mourner. Poor Thomas Fletcher. A wonderful father, died about 25 years ago.

Blondie took the first sip of his coffee before sitting down on the grass. Tony noted that the grave did indeed have grass. That meant that it at least wasn't brand new. Blondie's had some time to settle on the fact. He pulled his bagel out and placed it on the flattened bag. Then he began to talk.

Blondie talked and talked. He was the kind of person to talk with his hands. Tony thought he looked a little silly, going on about some story with half a bagel flying around in his hand. Blondie let out a laugh and if that wasn't one of the best laughs Tony had ever heard… He stood there, watching, for almost half an hour. After sitting quietly for a couple minutes, Blondie stood up and began to walk back towards the entrance. Tony averted his eyes, looking back to Fletcher's gravestone, but looked up when he came closer. They made eye contact and Tony could see the red puffiness of Blondie's eyes. He'd been crying. Tony, not quite knowing what to do, offered a small smile. Blondie gave a small smile back and continued to walk.

Tony waited until Blondie exited the park before walking up to the gravestone he had sat next to. The engraving read:

 _Sgt. James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes_

 _107 Regt. Inf._

 _World War II_

 _Mar 20 1925_

 _Dec 14 1945_

The guy, Bucky, died 70 years ago. And Blondie couldn't have been more than 30 years old. Maybe Bucky was a grandparent, or a family friend. Below the writing sat a single pink flower. Without a word, Tony turned around and began to head back to his house, the flower thief never once leaving his mind.

xxx

Steve Rogers took his usual route from his apartment to the graveyard. Although SHIELD had been adamant about him staying in Washington DC after reviving him from the ice, he decided to move back to Brooklyn, back to what was familiar to him. Well, as familiar as 70 years into the future can be.

He walked along Prospect Park West until he saw the now familiar brownstone in the distance. Steve felt a little guilty about stealing flowers at first, he still does, but going to a florist was just too much money for him. Plus, the flowers he took were somehow always replaced. There was never a note or anything telling him to stop, so he just continued.

He rounded the corner and walked up to the small garden, expecting to take one of the pink lilies that grew there. They were Bucky's absolute favorite flower. And while there were the usual lilies, there was also something new. Settled in with all the flowers was a very expensive looking glass vase filled to the brim with gorgeous flowers. They were of all shapes and colors and a few of them Steve had never even seen before. Taped to the vase was a small, white piece of paper. Steve pulled it off the glass and read what was written:

 _For Bucky_

 _-TS_

Steve tried to ignore how creepy it was that whoever owned this garden knew where he was going every week. He felt tears build up in his eyes and looked up at the windows. In the second story window, Steve saw the back of a brown-haired head.

Steve picked up the vase and held it close to his chest before continuing down the street.


End file.
